


Where Babies Come From

by Lothlorien



Series: Everybody Loves Bingo [4]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Asexuality, Dwalin wants little dwobits, Gardening, M/M, Misunderstandings, all dwarrows aren't, all hobbits are asexual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 10:27:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lothlorien/pseuds/Lothlorien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dwalin was happy with his life. He truly was. The only thing that could make him happier would be a child. But that's just not going to happen. Or is it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where Babies Come From

Dwalin liked children. He liked how they didn't fear him even though he was so much bigger than them. He liked how simple their needs were – you kept them fed, watered, and clothed, and occasionally told them a story. When he was younger, he used to dream about settling down with a strong dwarflady and having a herd of dwarrowlings of his own. He would teach them to fight and his wife would teach them to work metal and maybe he'd let Balin teach them to read. It was a good dream. But the funny thing about dreams is that you dream of a life you could never have and end up with a life you never could've dreamt of.

***

Bilbo didn’t think he would ever understand dwarrows. They seemed to strive towards making their lives more complicated than they needed to be, and their main weapon in this endeavour was a complete lack of proper communication. Though they presented themselves to the world as a simple race, their language was awash with euphemisms and double entendres. This lead to countless misunderstandings during the quest – more than once Bilbo felt as though there were several different conversations happening at once and he was only aware of one of them. However, Bilbo thought that he had at least taught his husband the art of proper communication. After all of the problems at the beginning of their relationships, nearly all of them caused by the dwarf’s unclear language, Dwalin agreed to talk to him when he had a problem, and to ask questions when he didn’t understand something. And it was working – for all their differences they were happy together.

Only, Dwalin didn’t seem very happy lately. He wasn’t unhappy, certainly, but there was something bothering him and the blasted dwarf wouldn’t talk to Bilbo about it. The hobbit watched his husband sharpening an axe by the fireplace and ran a mental check list to make sure he hadn’t done anything to upset him: he prepared Dwalin’s favourite meals five times last week (two more than their marriage contract demanded); he didn’t spend more than 5 hours a day in his study or gardening; he did spend at least three hours a day with his husband (and that was discounting the time they spent sleeping or sharing meals); he even offered Dwalin the use of his body three times in the last week (twice more than agreed in the contract). Reassured that he didn’t cause his husband’s upset, Bilbo decided to truly confront him and not let the dwarf get away from the conversation until they found a satisfactory solution to whatever was troubling him.

“Dwalin, my dear, can I talk to you for a few minutes?”

The dwarf looked up, saw the serious look in Bilbo’s eyes, and put away the axe. 

“Aye, _sanghivasha_ , what’s troubling you?”

“Have I done something wrong lately?” asked Bilbo calmly. “If I have, you really must tell me, because I’ve already determined that I haven’t failed to fulfil any of the clauses in our contract, yet you still seem unhappy.”

A year ago, Dwalin would be nervous when confronted with such a direct statement, but his time with Bilbo taught him that hobbits truly were as straightforward as they seemed and that one could be sure that what they said meant just that and nothing more. As such, he didn’t panic. He calmly got up to join his husband in his lounge chair – an act that involved bodily lifting the hobbit off the seat and placing him firmly in the dwarf’s lap as he sat down. Bilbo, used to such dwarf-handling, merely got comfortable on Dwalin’s lap and waited for him to speak.

“ _Umzam_ , you must never think I could be unhappy around you,” said Dwalin firmly. “I promised on our wedding day to be honest with you, and I have not broken that vow. Had you done something to make me dissatisfied, I would tell you.”

Bilbo nodded and kissed his husband’s cheek. “Good. I didn’t think it was my fault, but it never hurts to ask. However, you cannot deny that there is something troubling you. I would know what it is, so that I might make it better.”

“Aye,” sighed Dwalin, “there is something on my mind. But I’m afraid you could not make it better, so I will not trouble you with it.”

This earned the dwarf a stern look. “Dwalin, must we have this conversation again?”

Crumpling under his husband’s glare, as he always did, the dwarf mumbled: “I want children.”

Bilbo took a moment to digest this request and then nodded. “Well, certainly it’s not the best time of year for it, but I don’t see why not. I must confess I have thought about it myself and it would be nice to have children in Bag End again.”

“I – you… What?”

“It would take some extra work, of course, but I think that, if you’re willing to help me with the gardening, we could plant our seed sometime next week.”

“It is not that simple, lad. For one thing, neither of us has the proper equipment to bear the _seed_ ,” insisted Dwalin, clearly confused by his husband’s sudden use of euphemisms, when he so often ranted about them on their journey.

“I will have you know that I keep my equipment and my garden in impeccable conditions,” replied Bilbo, somewhat insulted by the dwarf’s words.

“I didn’t mean it like that, _sanghivasha_. I enjoy your _garden_ very much when you give me leave to enter it, but it’s not – “ Dwalin paused to try and think of a proper gardening metaphor. “It’s not very _fertile_.”

“Not fertile?” demanded Bilbo angrily shoving his way out of Dwalin’s lap. “My garden is plenty fertile enough to bear whatever seed I sow. I will have you know that my tomatoes are the best in all of Hobbiton and have been for some years now.”

He turned to storm out of the room, but was stopped by Dwalin’s arms which wrapped themselves around his waist.

“Bilbo, wait, please, stop. I – What have tomatoes have to do with us having children? And how can we have children when we are both male?”

Bilbo was somewhat calmed down by the confusion clear in his husband’s voice. It seems that their problem was once again caused by them being a hobbit and a dwarf respectively. He slowly turned in Dwalin’s arms.

“Why would we need a woman to have children? In what capacity would she be involved?”

Dwalin frowned. “Well, she would give birth to the child of course.”

“Give bir – What?”

Dwalin sighed. Apparently it was time for another one of their long conversations.

***

“ – and that is where dwarrowlings come from. Do hobbits not do it like that?”

Bilbo, looking quite pale and shocked, shook his head slightly. “No, not like that. I didn’t know that you wanted access to my body to put children in it, though it explains why you were so surprised by my unfamiliarity with the act.”

Now Dwalin looked concerned. “Bilbo, you must know that I didn’t make love to you, because I wanted to make you pregnant. I did it, because you are beautiful and irresistible and amazing. I will never need an ulterior motive to make love to you. Loving you is reason enough. Besides, as I explained, only female dwarrows can carry children, so I never expected our couplings to lead to anything more.” When Bilbo nodded his acceptance of this statement, the dwarf asked: “How do hobbits do it then?”

“As I said before, we just sow our seeds in the garden and wait for them to grow.”

Seeing his husband’s confused look, Bilbo decided that a more in depth explanation was needed.

***

Life was truly a funny thing thought Dwalin. It never turned out the way you wanted it to.

“Papa?” 

Dwalin smiled and turned to the little dwobit in his lap. “What is it, _uhfak_?”

“Where do babies come from?”

The dwarf laughed and turned to his husband.

“Maybe you should take this one.”

Listening to Bilbo trying to explain gardening to their daughter, Dwalin smiled. 

Life never turned out the way you wanted it to. Sometimes it turned out much, much better.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations to Khuzdul done using the neo-khuzdul dictionary.  
> umzam - greatest jewel  
> sanghivasha - perfect treasure  
> uhfak - greatest joy
> 
> The idea of gardening came from [The Feels Whale](http://archiveofourown.org/users/miscellea/pseuds/The%20Feels%20Whale)'s [The Good Earth](http://archiveofourown.org/series/38858) series. It's absolutely brilliant and you need to check it out. Basically, hobbits create seeds using the hair and blood of each parent and then plant them in the garden and children grow out of them.
> 
> This story is part of the bingo challenge Corrupted Smile and I are doing at the moment. The prompts for this fic was 'asexual!character'. I hope you liked it.  
> Also, come visit me on tumblr - you'll find me under the name [fanficisalegitimatefieldofstudy](http://fanficisalegitimatefieldofstudy.tumblr.com/).


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